Enclosure came and trampled on the grave
Of labours rights, and left the poor a slave
Fence now meets fence, in owners little bounds
Of field and meadow large, as garden grounds
In little parcels little minds to please
With men and flocks imprisoned, ill at ease
Each little tyrant, with his little sign
Shows where man claims earth grows no more divine
On paths to freedom, and to childhood dear
A board sticks up to notice: ‘no road here’
- John Clare
Eduardo Gastaldo was one of the many (that is to say, all) photographers/journalists who was denied access to Gaza when Israel bombed the shit outta the place. While this cease-fire still holds, I’ll post a few of his pastoral, and incongruous images from the safe side of the wall. Most of his images from the series Watching Gaza serve to reflect a general Israeli support of the war, but to their credit also Israeli anti-war demonstrations in Tel Aviv. You’ll have to go to his own site for that more balanced view, though.
Though I gladly participated in the Palestine peace march here in Xela two weeks ago, I didn’t support the local organizers in defacing the monument at the Plaza de Israel (a big metal Star of David) as representative of the crimes of the state of Israel. I felt that instead of encouraging peace, it inspires returned prejudice against a people on the base of religion – remembering that prior to being a national symbol, the star is a symbol of Jewish identity, a religious rather than a state emblem. (oh, the irony of confusing it with a swastika) Just to say that albeit a small act, symbolically it’s as strong as the benevolent little peace march. At least in my mind.
I know that there are a few who would rather see and hear about stuff closer to my own life, and to Guatemala, and I hope I will be able to tell some soon, besides from telling that I’ve been alternating between my bed and the pot these past few days (I feel a lot better today, thank you).
…
Update: Please read Letters from Gaza
and from same site, take a closer look at the Map of Gaza Casualties
Gaza is burning, and while Israel continues its aggression against the civilian Palestinian population of Gaza, now going on twenty days, the children are a majority among those innocent caught in the crossfire – I doubt even Israel’s most stiff-necked official can claim that these are enemy combatants and keep a straight face. By all accounts, at least one third of the victims in Gaza are children, more than three hundred so far. What is happening right now is horribly, fucking wrong, a humanitarian disaster of sinister proportions in the face of an international community that so far can only look in from the outside.
As their rockets and artillery keep dropping, Israel is still preventing international reporters from entering the territories, claiming that it would compromise military operations. According to cnn.com, “Israel has accused Hamas militants of exploiting the deaths of civilians to garner international sympathy through the media,” in other words, of painting a rather unfair image of Israel’s military operation by focusing too much on civilian casualties — echoing the 2004 second bombing of Falluja in Iraq by Israel’s ally the United States; here too, the city under seige was cordoned off so no-one were able to flee the bombing raids because they were turned back at the city gates. The New York Times, known for their ardent support of the war, applauded the shutdown of hospitals like Falluja General Hospital, regarded by the invaders as “a propaganda weapon for the militants, [...] with its stream of reports of civilian casualties.” So, it was considered a legitimate target, since “inflated civilian casualty figures [...] had inflamed opinion throughout the country, driving up the political costs of the conflict.” (my emphasis). Subsequently, Al-Jazeera was harshly critized by high US officials for, again, having “emphasized civilian casualties” during the destruction of Falluja, in other words, reporting the truth – known as bad for business. ¹
But what is happening in Gaza right now looks less like a military operation and more like a state-run campaign of mass-homicide on innocent civilians (again the resemblance with Iraq is striking). The president Evo Morales of Bolivia and Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez both announced today that they are severing diplomatic relations with Israel on the basis of “the gravity of the atrocities against the Palestinian people,” and continued by accusing Israel of participating in “state terrorism” against “the most weak and innocent human beings: children, women and the aged.” ²
In this article on Z Space we find some numbers to back that up: “…largely unmentioned by the media, prior to the latest invasion, 14 Israelis had been killed by mostly homemade rockets fired from Gaza over the last seven years as against 5,000 Palestinians killed in Israeli attacks.”
Figures that surely deserve to enter the debate about Israels proclaimed legitimacy..
I appreciate that even in a small city like Quetzaltenango, local Guatemalan youth were able to muster a crowd for a peace march for Gaza yesterday, which, however small, managed to get a lot of attention, carrying a casket on its way through the city and up to the Plaza de Israel, effectively blocking traffic for a good while. I hope as many as possible will summon of the strength to participate in denouncing Israel’s crimes in Gaza right now so that pressure from the international community will convince Israel to put and end to the atrocities.
News updates at cnn.com/gaza, and a few articles:
Robert Fisk: Keeping out the cameras and reporters simply doesn’t work,
and, this just in:
Avi Shlaim: How Israel brought Gaza to the brink of humanitarian catastrophe.
Naomi Klein: Israel: Boycott, Divest, Sanction.
And the words of another man, far more clear sighted and eloquent than I, on the conflict as seen from the Americas, in fact not far from where I am now (copy-pasted from Lucas Mulder’s blog, where he also shares his own thoughts on Palestine – these words however come from Chiapas, Mexico):
Two days ago, the same day we discussed violence, the ineffable Condoleezza Rice, a US official, declared that what was happening in Gaza was the Palestinians’ fault, due to their violent nature.
The underground rivers that crisscross the world can change their geography, but they sing the same song.
And the one we hear now is one of war and pain.
Not far from here, in a place called Gaza, in Palestine, in the Middle East, right here next to us, the Israeli government’s heavily trained and armed military continues its march of death and destruction.
The steps it has taken are those of a classic military war of conquest: first an intense mass bombing in order to destroy “strategic” military points (that’s how the military manuals put it) and to “soften” the resistance’s reinforcements; next a fierce control over information: everything that is heard and seen “in the outside world,” that is, outside the theater of operations, must be selected with military criteria; now intense artillery fire against the enemy infantry to protect the advance of troop to new positions; then there will be a siege to weaken the enemy garrison; then the assault that conquers the position and annihilates the enemy, then the “cleaning out” of the probable “nests of resistance.”
The military manual of modern war, with a few variations and additions, is being followed step-by-step by the invading military forces.
We don’t know a lot about this, and there are surely specialists in the so-called “conflict in the Middle East,” but from this corner we have something to say:
According to the news photos, the “strategic” points destroyed by the Israeli government’s air force are houses, shacks, civilian buildings. We haven’t seen a single bunker, nor a barracks, nor a military airport, nor cannons, amongst the rubble. So–and please excuse our ignorance–we think that either the planes’ guns have bad aim, or in Gaza such “strategic” military points don’t exist.
We have never had the honor of visiting Palestine, but we suppose that people, men, women, children, and the elderly–not soldiers–lived in those houses, shacks, and buildings.
We also haven’t seen the resistance’s reinforcements, just rubble.
We have seen, however, the futile efforts of the information siege, and the world governments trying to decide between ignoring or applauding the invasion, and the UN, which has been useless for quite some time, sending out tepid press releases.
But wait. It just occurred to us that perhaps to the Israeli government those men, women, children, and elderly people are enemy soldiers, and as such, the shacks, houses, and buildings that they inhabited are barracks that need to be destroyed.
So surely the hail of bullets that fell on Gaza this morning were in order to protect the Israeli infantry’s advance from those men, women, children, and elderly people.
And the enemy garrison that they want to weaken with the siege that is spread out all over Gaza is the Palestinian population that lives there. And the assault will seek to annihilate that population. And whichever man, woman, child, or elderly person that manages to escape or hide from the predictably bloody assault will later be “hunted” so that the cleansing is complete and the commanders in charge of the operation can report to their superiors: “We’ve completed the mission.”
Again, pardon our ignorance, maybe what we’re saying is beside the point. And instead of condemning the ongoing crime, being the indigenous and warriors that we are, we should be discussing and taking a position in the discussion about if it’s “zionism” or “antisemitism,” or if Hamas’ bombs started it.
Maybe our thinking is very simple, and we’re lacking the nuances and annotations that are always so necessary in analyses, but to the Zapatistas it looks like there’s a professional army murdering a defenseless population.
Who from below and to the left can remain silent?
Is it useful to say something? Do our cries stop even one bomb? Does our word save the life of even one Palestinian?
We think that yes, it is useful. Maybe we don’t stop a bomb and our word won’t turn into an armored shield so that that 5.56 mm or 9 mm caliber bullet with the letters “IMI” or “Israeli Military Industry” etched into the base of the cartridge won’t hit the chest of a girl or boy, but perhaps our word can manage to join forces with others in Mexico and the world and perhaps first it’s heard as a murmur, then out loud, and then a scream that they hear in Gaza.
We don’t know about you, but we Zapatistas from the EZLN, we know how important it is, in the middle of destruction and death, to hear some words of encouragement.
I don’t know how to explain it, but it turns out that yes, words from afar might not stop a bomb, but it’s as if a crack were opened in the black room of death and a tiny ray of light slips in.
As for everything else, what will happen will happen. The Israeli government will declare that it dealt a severe blow to terrorism, it will hide the magnitude of the massacre from its people, the large weapons manufacturers will have obtained economic support to face the crisis, and “the global public opinion,” that malleable entity that is always in fashion, will turn away.
But that’s not all. The Palestinian people will also resist and survive and continue struggling and will continue to have sympathy from below for their cause.
And perhaps a boy or girl from Gaza will survive, too. Perhaps they’ll grow, and with them, their nerve, indignation, and rage. Perhaps they’ll become soldiers or militiamen for one of the groups that struggle in Palestine. Perhaps they’ll find themselves in combat with Israel. Perhaps they’ll do it firing a gun. Perhaps sacrificing themselves with a belt of dynamite around their waists.
And then, from up there above, they will write about the Palestinians’ violent nature and they’ll make declarations condemning that violence and they’ll get back to discussing if it’s zionism or anti-semitism.
And no one will ask who planted that which is being harvested.
For the men, women, children, and elderly of the Zapatista National Liberation Army,
Subcomandante Insurgente Marcos
Mexico, January 4, 2009. ³
.
A man found Alladin’s lamp lying around. Since he was a big reader, the man recognized it and rubbed it right away. The genie appeared, bowed deeply, and said: “At your service, master. Your wish is my command. But there will be only one wish.”
Since he was a good boy, the man said, ”I wish for my dead mother to be brought back.”
The genie made a face. “I’m sorry master, but that wish is impossible. Make another.”
Since he was a nice guy, the man said, “I wish the world would stop spending money to kill people.”
The genie swallowed. “Uhh … What did you say your mother’s name was?”
It’s gotten late, and I am sitting in the hallway outside my room, with double the amount of trousers considered normal and a borrowed jacket, the temperature falling fast, so I’ll make it short and sweet. An announcement:
There’s a new photo agency out there. After much anticipation (I would’ve been one of those camping outside the ticket office), the new cooperative Ballad Photo finally aired not with a bang but with a whisper. At time of writing, the cooperative consists of Jonathan Boulet-Groulx and Lucas Mulder, based respectively in Canada/Haiti and (across the street) in Guatemala.
“Ballad Photo is a cooperative of independent photographers working internationally on diverse projects. And while our individual work differs we are united by our desire to produce high quality, in-depth reportage grounded in responsibility, accuracy, accountability, and truth-to-power.
We prioritize an authentic journalism based on solidarity and partnership with the people we are working with; a journalism that best represents both the unique character of the issues at hand, as well as the communities in which they are based.”
Short glimpses around the site and it’s looking real good. A clear and logical design of the website: a selected photos slide show welcomes the visitor on dark background, with a brief and open mission statement, while all other content is provided on text-friendly white section, and photo galleries are hovered as a light box slide show. The functionality and focus om images is a lot better here than a lot of other (good) photo agency sites out there (the heavy Magnum and VII sites, say). And of course they’ve been clever enough to include a blog.
Already, Ballad houses nine full photo essays by Lucas Mulder and Jonathan Boulet-Groulx, featuring stories from Guatemala, Quebec, Haiti, Bolivia, and Palestine.
I bet they could use a hand in promoting it (so what if Lucas is one of the very few people reading my blog?), so a big welcome to Ballad – it looks great guys, and I for one will be keeping an eye out for what happens. Bring on the stories!
A beautiful evening mist rolls down the surrounding hillsides here in Xela as I write. But in the meanwhile, sadly, in San Cristobal Verapaz, some two hundred kilometers north of Guatemala City, the recovery work continues after a landslide that killed at the very least 33 people last night, as a chunk of mountain—ten thousand tons of mountainside, rocks and earth— came tumbling down on coffee farmworkers who were walking along the road home from work. Since at least another 60 persons are missing, the number of victims is inevitably bound to be a lot higher (probably more than 80 people) as the recovery work goes forward over the next days; a job that’s immensely difficult due of the geological instability of the area. Landslides in Guatemala are commonplace, but they usually occur during the rainy season (now is dry season). When I first came to Guatemala, one of the first things that astonished me was how people work, the level of sacrifice and strength that goes into getting the mere daily beans and tortillas on the table, and of course this brings perspective to the type of life I’ve lived so far; the coffee workers who lost their lives in yesterday’s mudslide were no doubt among those many Guatemalans and millions more throughout Latin America who broke their backs working long days in the fincas for a meager, often miniscule wage. It seems somehow more unjust and meaningless that those who work the hardest and earn the least gratitude are the ones to go first when disaster strikes. Of course, nature itself is indiscriminate, but the priorities of the Guatemalan government, like so many others (my own backyard certainly included) are not. The first thing most people encounter upon entering the country is the impressively smoothly varnished and conveniently modern Aurora Airport—built, I suspect, mainly to impress incoming foreigners with bucks for the tourist industry, and at the expense of improving the dangerously precarious roads and highways. Apparently no tourists were involved in the disaster, or someone surely would have told us.
Here’s to
Estuardo García, 36,
Jesús Lajuj Xitimul, 39,
José María Caal, 51,
José Alfredo Mendoza, 30,
Diego Elías García Alonzo, 23,
Joaquín Ixpata, 31,
Luciano González Lajuj, 29,
Sebastián Jom, 70,
Pablo Solomán Tzunún,
and the others who didn’t come home last night.
Soldiers from the first amored division celebrate American Independence Day at a palace that belonged to Saddam Hussein’s son Uday. Baghdad, July 4, 2003.
For the Beyond Iraq issue at the dispatches website, Yuri Kozyrev has published the photo essay ирак, documenting post-invasion Iraq, what struck me the most was the above photo. Besides from making me think of the iconic scene of surfing soldiers after napalming a vietnamese fishing town in Apocalypse Now, it kind of sums up a great deal of what I’ve been learning for the past five months; about a war that has obviously failed, and while bringing about a deepening segregation between cultures, has cultivated ideological blowback and left a culture as old as civilization in rubble. The soldiers on the image celebrate their Independence Day amid the wreckage of a country that has not only been robbed of its promise of own national independence, but also looted of its cultural heritage, its infrastructure, and history – literally loaded onto trucks and disappeared. And while the soldiers were high on a sense of victory and, I suppose, of liberation, the country was in flames while the priority of the Bush administration was to fling open the borders for foreign multinational investment, privatize all institutions, industries and social services to non-Iraqi companies, and creating the widest of free-market zones anywhere in the world; an Iraq open for business, a shopping mall for disaster production and relief industries. According to Michael Ledeen, adviser to the Bush administration, invading Iraq was an attempt at “a war to remake the world” – and Thomas Friedman of the New York Times proclaimed that “we are not doing nation-building in Iraq. We are doing nation-creating,” as if there was nothing there to begin with.
Back in the seventies in military governments throughout Latin America, it was decided that in order to build and maintain stable societies and economies, “whole categories of people and their cultures would have to pulled up “from the root”" (quotes so far from Naomi Klein in The Shock Doctrine), including their cultural heritage, more often than not in order to make way for economic policies beneficial to investors. Full circle back to Guatemala, where the recent trend of United States sponsored military interventions had its kickoff. In these parts, little over fifty years ago, business had its buddying introduction into transnational politics when a banana company managed to have the U.S. overthrow the democratically elected government and install the first military dictatorship in a long row that went on until the nineties. They also witnessed the worst genocide in 20th century Latin America; the attempt to pull up from the roots the indigenous Mayan population, another culture as old as civilization, one of the richest and most beautiful I’ve encountered.
Now I’m back in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala. I hope to be able to address these things more, in the very least understand it and the context around me, and in the meanwhile keep looking for a voice and a medium. The policies and politics of these events of the past continue today, in other parts of the world, and continues to reverberate right here where it started; the Mayans are still targeted, now by static and insufficient social policies and discrimination and a still corrupt government. One of the better (or worse) examples is that of Efrain Rios Montt, the man responsible for ordering the destruction of some 400 Mayan villages during his presidency thirty years ago, who to this day retains a seat in the Guatemalan parliament.
By the way I’m violating the copyright acknowledged above as the image is reproduced without permission. If anyone has a problem with it contact me and I’ll remove the photograph from here right away. It’s taken from the photo essay by Yuri Kozyrev linked to in the first paragraph (and here).
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